


The Serpent's Beauty

by Zaneybee



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Greek inspirations, I Don't Even Know, Some Genderbending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-06-24 01:19:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15619275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaneybee/pseuds/Zaneybee
Summary: Belle, a bright and charming inventor, craves more than her small town. Her mother paints too much to really know her, and she feels her only real friends are in books. She craves adventure and a chance to be more than she is. When she finally gets that chance, will she take it? Or will things go wonderfully wrong?





	1. Prologue

Once, long ago, there was a large kingdom. It was growing in leaps and bounds through the king’s dream of a large and fruitful empire. It should be that the kingdom would be rich and plentiful, but, sadly, that wasn’t the case. The king, though ambitious, had a rather large soft spot for his only daughter. He loved her dearly, especially after the death of his wife. 

The princess was a spoiled creature. Her maids must be pure french maids, her makeup, the highest quality. Her dresses must always be in style and must never be worn more than once. She had never known anything except beauty; even to the point of getting servants she saw as less than perfect fired. The castle must be decorated in her style, and was always being changed. All of these demands were met without question, even though the king could barely afford it all. To comply with her, he taxed the peasants horribly; Most of them could barely afford to fill their bellies because of it.

Of course, the princess couldn’t care. What you cannot see, you cannot worry about, right? So years passed like this, only getting worse when she came of age. She threw extravagant parties with only the most beautiful men to court her, the most talented musicians to play at, and the most delicious food to serve. None of this could satisfy her, and so all she wanted was more. 

Then, on a stormy night that scared even the guards with its force, a knock came from the door. When the servants hesitated, another knock rang through the halls. A servant opened the door and asked who was there. A decrepit old woman stood, hunched over and holding a single rose. She asked for entry, for a place to stay out the storm. The servant pitied her and bade her to wait. 

The princess was brought, as the king was too busy to deal with a peasant. Looking at the hag, the princess almost winced in disgust and ordered her away, so that she wouldn’t have to look at her. The woman bade the princess once more to let her stay, that there is more to someone than outer beauty. The princess called for the guards to take her, to put her in the pig stye so she could be around creatures she could be as beautiful as. 

Then, an unearthly light came from the woman’s hood, and long, blonde locks fell from it. The cloak flew off and around the woman forming a flowing emerald dress. The woman had turned from an ugly hag to a beautiful enchantress. She then pointed an accusing finger towards the Princess who denied her.

The princess looked in terror for one of her servants to help her, but all of them had fled. She was alone with the enchantress. The princess moved back a step, another, then tripped on her extravagant skirts. She raised shaking hands, putting them together in a prayerful motion. The princess begged for forgiveness, claiming she had no idea who the woman was. She would have never been so rude had she known. The enchantress let loose a scornful laugh, saying that the vain never know until it is too late. 

Then, the enchantress told the princess what her fate would be; to be a creature that no one could stand to see. The princess would not be able to see beauty without destroying it. What the princess had loved in life, she would not be able to behold. The enchantress swirled her fingers and the princess screamed in pain.

Her body changed in a blaze of fiery suffering. She felt true pain for the first time in her life, and could not handle it. Instead, she crumbled to the ground in a boneless heap. The enchantress, when she had finished with her, explained calmly that the princess would have until the last petal fell to find someone to love her. If she did not, then this would be her fate forever. The princess couldn’t understand, only feeling the last of the pain. The last thing she remembered was the enchantress disappearing, and the horrified scream of her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooot! I have been wanting to write here for years but I never had the inspiration! I grew up watching Beauty and the Beast and I love the fact that I found something to honor it with. Now this story has a bit of a mix of the old movie and the new one. Most character appearances are from the new movie, and some characteristics are from the old movie. You'll see more about that in the next chapter. I'll try (keyword try) to update every Sunday, though, as I'm moving into college as a freshman next week, I don't know how well that will work. Anyway, I hope you can be patient with me. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 1

Belle lay underneath her newest contraption, tinkering quietly with the mechanisms underneath. She turned the wrench once, twice, then breathed a sigh of relief when she couldn’t move it farther. She’s sure she has it right this time. Sliding out from beneath it, she wiped the sweat from her brow and marveled at her work.

The invention was a simple one, made of iron and wood. It had a long appendage with a gripper at the end connected to a spring, and with a thin cord of rope tied through it. The cord lead up over a wooden shaft, then down into the machine where it wrapped tightly around a wheel. The wheel itself was connected to a large crank. A lever stood next to the crank. I was supposed to be, in theory, a log chopper. With only her aging mother and herself to chop wood when it got cold, something always seemed to happen. Last winter, her mother threw out her back. The winter before that, Belle had broken her wrist. It still hurt when she used it too much. 

Belle picked up a small log (no use breaking her baby on its first cutting test) and set it in front of the arm, just in it’s hitting distance. She walked to the wall where she hung a few sharp axes and picked one up. Walking over to the machine, she slid the axe into the gripper and tightened it so the axe wouldn’t move. Everything seemed to be going well now… Crossing her fingers, Belle went to the lever, gripped it firmly, and prayed that this worked. Then, she pulled down. 

There was a whirring as the cord was let go, sending the axe swinging forward. It landed with a satisfying thunk, cutting straight through the log and knocking the log halves over. A surge of excitement lanced through her, but she tempered it down. Yes, the first shot was successful, but that doesn’t mean it works. Leaning down, she went to work turning the crank, keeping an eye on the spring and cord. 

The appendage almost reached the top when there was a smell of smoke. Looking up, Belle saw saw that the wood had caught fire, and was taking the cord with it. There was a snap and the appendage came back down and broke with a sharp crack. Belle sighed in disappointment, nocking another failure in her mind. Note to self, she thought bitterly, don’t use a flammable substance as a makeshift pulley.

She scratched the back of her head in thought, wondering how she should change it. Living in a small town meant that there were not many shops tailored to her experiments. She then thought of her father, and if he also had problems finding parts for his inventions. Her mother told her that her father was an inventor before his time. People didn’t know how amazing he was until he was gone.

She walked to a mirror she kept in her workshop, pulling her chocolate colored hair up and tying it off with a blue bow. While putting her hands down, she noticed some grease on them. Definitely not the hands of a lady, like the ones in her mother’s paintings. Their’s were all so delicate and beautiful. Belle’s hands were calloused, her nails chipped and dirty. Her favorite blue dress was stained from grease and burned from some other failed experiments literally blowing up in her face. She didn’t care though. She had already decided she would be a spinster. 

She walked inside her small home and to the wash stand in the bathroom, filling the basin with water. She washed her hands quickly, dried them on her skirt, then walked out the door to the nearby town. The path was a short one, and one she was familiar with. She walked it nearly every day on her way to the library. She loved to read almost as much as she loved to create; something she got from her mother. 

She walked into town just as people were getting up to do their daily lives. There were people all around the square, arguing, bartering, and just talking in a loud cacophony. Belle decided long ago that she also preferred to be by herself. The people in town treated her and her mother as strangers. They had the audacity to call them funny even though they barely knew the world beyond their tiny corner of France. 

She noticed some stares, some people muttering. “-but she’s such a beauty. How has she not found a husband?” A woman whispered to her companion. “No man wants a funny girl like her. She would probably blow up their house before she would cook him dinner or clean…” She passed a corner and could no longer hear them. She told herself that they were wrong, she told herself that what they said didn’t matter. Of course, she couldn’t convince herself of it. Their words had met their mark, but she was determined not to show it. 

She pushed open the doors of the small library. Books covered every single free inch, some even stacked up on the floor. The librarian (and pastor), a tall and handsome man, looked up from his cluttered desk and smiled. His skin was a charming dark chocolate, and he had a strong look to him. He had broad shoulders, a beautifully chiseled face with blond locks that fell around it. His smile was one of the few genuine ones that Belle saw. 

“I see you have returned,” he said warmly, standing and stepping over a rather large pile next to his desk. “What would you like today? Blueprints? A manual?” Belle shook her head, distracted, while she looked over the books. “I need a book on pulleys, if you have one, Père.” 

He tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps…” he said as he walked to a ladder. He climbed up the first rung or two, and pushed himself along the wall. He then grabbed the edge of a shelf and easily stopped himself. Running his finger along the spines of the book, he quietly murmured, “No… No... “ after each book he passed. Finally, he found the one he was looking for with a soft, “Aha” of triumph. Then, he climbed down the ladder and gave it to Belle. “A Guide to Ancient Buildings and Mechanisms. Not exactly what you are looking for, but it does have a rather in depth description of pulley systems in other cultures.” 

Belle smiled in appreciation. “Thank you so much. I just wish we had something more here.” Père Robert smiled and nodded. “The challenges of living in a small town, my dear.” He tilted his head to the side a bit. “Is something...Wrong?” Belle shook her head quickly, a slight blush covering her cheeks. “I was just… Is my favorite book still here? The one with Prince Charming?” Père Robert smiled and walked to a windowsill between two shelves and pulled out a book. “You should know by now that you’re the only one here who reads.” Belle took it gingerly, running her fingers lovingly down it’s spine. “I suppose that is a bright side to a small town.” 

Père Robert looked at her thoughtfully for a few seconds. “Why not take that book? You read it so much, it already has a spot in your home.” Belle looked at him in surprise. “Really? You would be okay with that?” He smiled kindly, nodding. “Of course. You are the the only one who has read it in almost a year.” She smiled gratefully back at him, feeling warm at the fact that he cares. “Thank you so much… I’ll make sure that my next invention will be for you. Maybe a book grabber so you won’t have to climb that ladder all the time.” He laughed, a deep and rumbling sound. “I would greatly appreciate that. Now, bon voyage, mademoiselle.” 

Belle dipped her head, a polite movement she still could not shake even though she had known him for years, and walked out the door. She cradled the books to her chest and walked briskly, excited to get back to work. Something in her told her that today would be a good day, and she decided to fuel her motivation through that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me why the note from my first chapter is there I have no idea. Technical difficulties aside, I loved writing in Pere Robert. He was a small character, but always one of my favorites. Plus, the fact he's the priest and the librarian makes how small the town is more striking.


	3. Chapter 2

Belle heard a shot ring out throughout town. A few seconds passed and a large goose fell right in front of Belle. She jolted in surprise and looked around, noting distantly that everyone else seemed quite calm even though a gun was just fired. Then, a tall man brushed through the crowd; well, more shoved through. Behind him, a portly man followed. He nasally sang the man’s praises as they both walked towards her. 

Gaston and LeFou… Belle thought distastefully. Of course they would find her. Gaston was the most attractive man in town, or so Belle had heard. She couldn’t quite see it. Gaston was too tall and wide to her. He loved the color red, and she had heard he liked using antlers in all of his decorating. He had no issues firing his gun recklessly. She might like his face, with his lovely black hair and chiseled features, if he didn’t always look so smug. He always seemed like everyone should worship at his feet; a quality Belle found immensely unattractive. 

LeFou, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Gaston. He lacked the confidence Gaston bathed in, instead choosing to work as Gaston’s personal stooge. He was short and wide, his belly jiggling with every step. His hair hung loosely around his face, obviously needing to be washed. The only standing he had was when he was next to Gaston, but even then it wasn’t much. 

Gaston fixed a look on Belle that made her feel vaguely like a rabbit watching a hunter approach. She didn’t like it. “Why, Belle!” He bellowed. His voice was deep and grating on the nerves. “It’s so lovely to see you!” Belle plastered a polite smile on her face. “Hello, Gaston. Back from your hunting trip so soon?” She couldn’t help the hint of wistfulness in her voice, but Gaston didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed the neck of the goose and stood back up. “I always have to make sure not to hunt too much. I would clear out the forest in a day!” 

“Is that so?” Belle murmured, wondering why he always boasted of his hunting skills like it was a good thing. He laughed heartily, “I am the best hunter in all of France! I’d say even the best soldier. You have heard that I was a captain, right?” 

“Yes, Gaston. They say you are the pride of the village. I only hope that you can go get more glory. As for me, I need to work on my invention.” Belle said and stepped around him. Gaston shoved the goose into LeFou’s arms and turned to walk beside Belle. “Another invention? Don’t you think you should be spending your time better?” Belle inwardly sighed, resigning herself to a long chat with him. “Better than building something that could help people?” 

Gaston nodded, looking vaguely like he was about to say something enlightening. “You should work on your cooking and cleaning… skills. Something a normal wife would do.” LeFou, who followed closely to Gaston’s heels like a dog, piped up cheerfully, “You know what happens to spinsters, right? They are left alone to rot. Take your mother for-” He didn’t finish his sentence before Gaston knocked him roughly on the head. “Don’t talk about her mother like that!” 

He cleared his throat as Belle saw her home in the distance. The light at the end of the tunnel, she thought hopefully. “He does have a point, Belle. Don’t you think it’s… time to settle down? I’m sure you have your eye on someone.” He said this last sentence matter-of-factly, his metaphorical feathers ruffling. “Not… really.” Belle replied, knowing where this is going. Gaston continued on like she had said nothing at all. “There is only one man who is as beautiful as you in this town. Doesn’t it sound like a match made in heaven?”

Quite the opposite… “I’m not sure what you mean.” Belle said instead. Gaston put his hand indecently low on her back, sending disgusted shivers up her back. She sped up a bit, successfully moving his hand away. “Just think about it. You and me in our kitchen, our dinner cooking wonderfully. And you, as my little wife, massaging my sore muscles.” 

Belle reached her door just as Gaston had finished his daydreaming. He put his arms on either side of her, effectively caging her in. Feeling like it would be a better idea to face him, she turned slowly and stared up at his face. “What do you say, Belle? Will you marry me?” Belle felt behind her for the handle, searching for something to say. “Well, you see, uh,” she stammered. Finally, she found the handle, and turned it quietly. “I just don’t think we would be good together!” She said. She quickly opened the door, stepped back, and slammed the door in his face. 

She felt bad for being so rude, but she couldn’t see any other way that it could have gone. Gaston is a pushy sort after all. He might just keep asking her nonstop. She let out a bone weary sigh, and heard her mother ask, “Belle?”

Belle looked at her mother. Her beautiful mother, from whom she got most of her looks. The same chocolate brown hair (though Belle’s has considerably less grey), the same narrow frame. Their eyes are different, though. Belle’s eyes are a hazel, a mix of her father’s green eyes and her mother’s brown ones. Belle felt a touch of tenderness and went to her mother. 

She was, as always, painting. Her face had flecks of paint on it, including a few spots where it looked like she had accidentally put the brush to it. Her hair had been tied back, but some had gotten free in frizzy strands around her face. Belle laughed a bit and moved a few strands from her face. “You look less like a rose, and more like a lion.” She commented dryly. 

Her mother laughed. “Well you look like a raccoon,” She said, and wiped her thumb on the underside of her jaw, getting off some of the grease that hid there. Belle blinked and wiped her knuckles against her jaw, and found a streak of grease there. “Oh no, I didn’t realize I had missed some.” Her mother smiled and stood. “My little tiger. Your father would do the same thing, but only on his forehead.” Belle laughed a bit. Her mother rarely talked about her father, so she sucked in every detail. 

“Can you tell me more,” Belle asked almost timidly, “about father?” Her mother’s smile died on her face. She took on a stoic yet mournful expression. “Your father was… brave.” She nodded once, agreeing with what she said. “Brave.” She sat down quietly and stared at her painting, the conversation seemingly done. 

Belle nodded, knowing how mercurial her mother could be. She was never the same when her father died. She remembered some hazy memories of her mother. In most of them, she smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her father, she remembered her father having bushy brown hair, and a beard. He had small glasses on his face, and always seemed to buzz with energy. She missed him. She barely knew him and she missed him. Was that even possible?

Belle sighed, and leaned on the wall next to her mother, sliding down it slowly and looking at the books in her lap. She felt sad and alone in the world. All she had was her mother. She had no real friends in this town. She had no one to depend on. Her mother wasn’t going to live forever, and one day, Belle realized, she would be all alone. Burying her head in her lap, she let herself feel weak for a second, to let some tears fall. She felt her mother’s hand on her head; not moving, just laying there to let Belle know her mother cared.  
A sudden knock at the door jarred Belle from her thoughts. She grabbed her mother’s wrist, kissed her palm, and stood, letting go. Going to the door, she wiped her face roughly, cursing herself quietly for her tears. She hoped that whoever was out there wouldn’t notice how red her face was. Oh blast, I hope it isn’t Gaston, she thinks, and swallows hard.

Opening the door, she was surprised to see Père Robert there, flushed and out of breath. “Oh, Père, what are you doing here? Did you run all the way here?” He held up a finger, bowing over and resting his free hand- is that a letter?- on his knees. He took a few deep breaths until he could breath easily. “I sent word to a friend of mine, another priest in the neighboring town, about your inventions.” He took another few deep breaths, stood up and handed Belle the letter. “He said that he knows someone that can teach you more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun Dun DUUUUUN. I think we all know where this is going. Also, Gaston is a BITCH to write. I want to write him one way but that wouldn't keep with the character. Oh well! Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 3

Belle was packing like her life depended on it. She fretted over one frock or another, on one corset, did this dress look good on her? She was so excited and so scared. It was like a swirling tempest inside of her. Of course, she was determined to go. It was an amazing experience, especially if there was someone willing to teach a woman. 

Just as she closed her trunk, she felt her mother hovering behind her. Ever since Père Robert brought the news, her mother was always near Belle. She was as worried as Belle was excited, but Belle knew she wouldn’t stop her. Her mother walked to Belle and grabbed one of the handles of the trunk. “Would you like some help moving it to the cart?” 

Belle remembered her thoughts earlier and reversed them onto her mother. Without Belle, her mother would be alone now, and here she was helping her move on. Belle hugged her mother without thinking, holding onto her tightly. There was a frozen second where neither of them moved, then her mother slowly wrapped her arms around her just as tight. 

“Do you have to go?” She asked, her voice quivering with unshed tears. “Can’t he come here?” Belle swallowed thickly and shook her head. “He has all the needed supplies there, mother. I have to go to him.” She tightened her grip a little more, feeling for the first time how small and frail her mother felt. She felt the first inkling of doubt in her mind, but she squashed it quickly. She had to go and that was that.

Belle pulled away first, leaving her hands on her mother’s upper arms and squeezing reassuringly. “I’ll write you daily, and I’ll send you some drawings of what he’s taught me. I’ll visit you as soon as I can.” Her mother paused for a second, looking unsure, then nodded. “You better visit sooner rather than later…” She said in a surly manner, causing Belle to laugh. 

Together they moved the trunk outside to their cart where it was securely tied to Philippe. He snorted a welcome to Belle when she came up to him and ran a hand down his cheek. “You’ll get me there safe, right Philippe?” He bobbed his head, making Belle smile with the thought he might actually understand her. 

She put her foot firmly in the stirrup and swung her other leg over Philippe. She decided to ignore the fact that technically she was supposed to ride side saddle since a journey as long as this one would just be painful like that. She wrapped the reins loosely around her hands and looked down at her mother, who was busily worrying her lip. 

“I’ll be fine, mother.” Belle said, almost exasperated, but they both knew she wasn’t actually annoyed. “Maybe you could leave tomorrow, Belle? The sun will go down soon…” Her mother said. “The sun,” Belle laughed, “is currently right above us. It won’t go down for hours. I’ll probably reach the village just as the sun disappears. Please don’t worry. Philippe will make sure I get there safely. He even promised.” 

Philippe snorted and nickered almost in protest, causing her mother to laugh a bit. “Okay, okay. I trust you.” She said, following it up with, “Now get going. You’ll have to hurry to get there.” She then tapped on Philippe’s hindquarters, effectively spurring the horse forward. Belle turned and waved, shouting back, “I love you! I’ll write you when I get there!” Her mother waved back until Belle could not see her anymore in the distance. 

\---

Belle held a map firmly against Philippe’s neck, reading it over intently. This didn’t make sense. Where were they? The wind whipped the map out of one hand, causing it to fold over. She sighed through her nose and tried to flatten it again, but this time, it was ripped completely away from her. 

Sighing again, she slid off of Philippe, ignoring the nervous nicker he let out, and went to grab the map. It flew off a few feet further away like someone had pulled it by a string. This continued on, Belle chasing after it and it flying away. Finally, she caught it, holding it up in triumph. It was then she realized she didn’t know where she was. 

She did know, though, that it shouldn’t be this cold in summer. Her breath came out in soft white puffs, and her clothes were sorely lacking in warmth. Turning around, she was relieved to see that Philippe had followed her. “What mess have I gotten us into this time, Philippe?” She said, walking towards him and taking his reins in one hand. “Let’s see if we can’t find somewhere to stay tonight, hmm, Philippe?” 

She started walking, noticing the exact moment the dirt under her feet becoming snow. “Why is it snowing here?” She wondered aloud. “It’s not as if we entered another world…” At her last sentence, she heard some rustling in the woods around her. It sounded too loud to be a rabbit, and too many to be just the wind. Belle tensed a bit, gripping the reins tighter. Philippe nuzzled his nose into her arm in a silent command to move. 

Belle had just climbed onto him when two enormous wolves dashed out of the tree line towards them. Philippe took off, but was obviously hindered by the cart. Belle twisted around, gripping tightly onto the horn and pulling a file from a pocket she had sewn into her dress. Thank god for planning, she thought as she filed as quickly as she could through the leather straps binding the cart to them. 

One wolf snapped at her hand and she screamed. Philippe immediately kicked the wolf in the jaw, sending it flying with a sickening crunch. When that side was freed, she went to work on the other side. This one went faster with the weight of the cart ripping it apart before she had gotten all the way through.  
Philippe, without the extra weight, took off as fast as he could, leaving the wolves struggling to catch up. Belle snapped the reins, urging him faster as they ran through the snow and woods. When she had thought what today would be like, this was the last thing she had imagined. Blast that feeling I had this morning, she cursed as Philippe took a particularly sharp corner. 

He suddenly reared when they almost turned right into a large and extravagant gate. Hearing the barking getting closer, Belle quickly slid off of Philippe and pushed hard on the gate. It opened with a groan of protest just enough for Philippe and her to fit through. She turned around to close it, seeing the wolves stop just a few feet away. It looked like they were scared to approach the gate. Good enough for me, Belle thought savagely, and grabbed Philippe's reins.

She looked around them at the magnificent gardens. There were maze like paths that wound around what would be perfectly manicured gardens if all the plants weren’t dead. There were different statues; some were angles, some were cupids, and some were… wolves? She even thought she saw a crumbling greenhouse in the distance with roses in it. Then she saw where all the paths lead. 

A beautiful castle stood proudly ahead of them. It had gorgeous, if crumbling, spires that seemed to touch the clouds. With winding pathways outside the castle, it almost seemed like something ripped from a fairy tale. Belle was almost worried to get close to it and wake up. Although, maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing, she thought.

She lead Philippe towards it, finding a small stable like area with hay and water. “There,” She said to him, “you should be fine for tonight. You have food and water. We’ll head home tomorrow and try this again.” She ran her hand down his neck and patted it twice. He looked at her, ducking his head down and nuzzling her arm. “I’ll be fine. There’s probably no one home, anyway.” She assured him and walked up to the door. 

She had knocked twice when the door opened. She stepped in and turned to thank whoever had opened it, only to find no one there. She was thoroughly confused and creeped out, but reasoned that the door wasn’t firmly shut. Shutting the door behind her, she rubbed her hands up her arm, finding herself shivering. Running from wolves really does help one forget the cold. Luckily, there was a fire burning in the hearth. 

She gratefully walked towards it, basking it its warmth. She turned to warm her back and looked around. The entry way was dark, no candles lit the interior, and no light from the moon outside. The only light- and warmth- was the fireplace surrounded by smooth white marble and plush chairs. The floor, she realized, was also marble. Whoever lived here must be very rich. 

“Hello?” Belle called out, “Is anyone home?” She waited for a few seconds for a response, only hearing her echo respond. “It… It was cold outside, and I had gotten lost. I just need a place to stay.” After a few seconds of silence, she sighed and walked towards a seat, only to be stopped by what sounded like… wooden footsteps?  
“Hello?” She asked once more and walked into the dark. She found a table with a gold candle holder and an antique clock. She picked up the candle and walked towards the fireplace, intending to light it. “Bonjour, Madam!” She heard a bright voice say right next to her. She whirled around to see who said it only to see no one. Feeling thoroughly creeped out, she turned back to the fire. “Over here,” the voice said once more and Belle turned around again. Then she felt two taps on her head and saw the candle holder was moving.

She screamed and threw it away from her. It grunted when it hit the floor. She used its surprise to grab a vase from the mantel and chucked it at it. The vase shattered against it as it called out, “Please, Mademoiselle! I can’t hurt you.” It got up and laughed, a musical sound. “What a strong arm you have!” 

“What are you?” Belle asked uncertainly. She heard a loud wooden thud and those footsteps again as the clock from the table walked to the candle’s side. “He’s a candle-” 

“Candelabra!” It points out quickly.

“Whatever. My name is Cogsworth. His name is Lumière. The only real thing you have to know about him is that he is an insufferable idiot.” The clock says in a deep voice. It really didn’t fit with how small it was. Then again… 

Belle asked quickly, “How are you talking?” Lumière laughed again. “How can we move? The only thing you need to know, Mademoiselle, is that it is possible.” Belle slowly moved around them, facing them the entire time, and slowly moved backwards towards the door. “Well, it was very nice, meeting the both of you, but I really should-” She yelped as she felt herself back into something hard. 

Belle froze in terror, wondering what she had run to now. The expressions on Lumière and Cogsworth’s faces really did not help her panic. Slowly, though, she looked up and saw… a monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I rushed this just a bit, but also, it got me to what I wanted to write all along. Also, to be honest, it did rush through the beginning in BOTH the movies, so I think I got a free pass. Anyway, here is where the real fun begins. :)


	5. Chapter 4

Belle whirled around and sucked in a sharp breath. The creature was tall, at least 180 centimeters, and serpentine with scales covering its body in sickly green patches. It had a long tail that was coiled, giving the creature some of its enormous height. It was bald, the only thing on its head being a white and tattered cloth over its eyes and the tips of fangs protruding from under it’s upper lip. It had ripped and tattered shreds covering its upper body as clothing. 

The creature then bared its teeth, showing off every bit of its gleaming fangs. “That’s it then?” It- though the creature had a very feminine voice- hissed. “You’ve come to stare at me?” Belle trembled and immediately shook her head, then realized she probably couldn’t see the motion. “No,” Belle said, almost glad to have hidden some of the shaking. “I was lost and cold. I came in for some shelter, that’s all, I swear! I didn’t even know someone lived he-”

The creature let out a shrill cry, “Liar!” She grabbed Belle by the front of her dress, lifting her up easily. Belle almost felt like a rag doll as she clung tightly to the creature’s wrist. She was terrified that she might use her as one. “The only reason people come here is to ridicule and mock me. You’re no different.” It almost looked thoughtful for a second. “Breaking and entering. I’ll lock you away for that.” 

Belle felt panic lance through her. “For… For how long?” The creature laughed, a dark and evil sound. “Forever. I can’t have you coming back for a mob to come and laugh at me. Maybe even kill me.” Belle struggled. “Forever for asking for shelter?!” 

“I was sentenced to damnation for less. At least I’m just locking you up.” She turned to Lumière and Cogsworth then, causing them both to step back. “Mistress,” Lumière started, “Can’t we just give her a chance? You never know, she-” The creature hissed at him and slithered off, carrying Belle to god know’s where. 

\---

Belle was tossed roughly into the cell, barely registering the iron door slamming shut behind her. She got up and ran to it, grabbing the rusted bars tightly as the creature slithered away. Belle decided to try one last ditch effort. “My name is Belle!” She stopped, not turning around, but obviously listening. Belle took this as a good sign. 

“My name is Belle. I am seventeen years old, and my birthday is in three weeks.” She paused for a breath, continuing with, “I have a beautiful mother. Her name is Camile, and she loves to paint. We read together sometimes, and she helps me draw inventions for me to build. I need…” Belle swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I need to go back home to her.” 

The creature didn’t move for a few seconds, giving Belle hope. Then, she slithered off quietly, down and out of sight. Belle let out a sigh of disappointment, walking towards the missing wall of her cell, wondering if she could just jump out. Looking down, she saw it led down a tall tower. She even saw the creature leaving. Jumping would be suicidal and Belle was far from suicidal. She just had to figure out how to escape. 

She walked to the door and saw a metal lever like the one from her invention. If she could fit her arm through the door and grab the lever, she could find her way out. The part about finding her way out worried her, but she would worry about it more later. Right now, she had to escape. 

She fit her arm through one of the holes closest to the lever and tried to ignore the pinching sensation as she reached towards the lever. It was just out of reach, her fingers brushing the cool metal every time she reached for it. Being so focused, she barely heard the metal footsteps on their way up the path.

Lumière poked his head around the corner. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle!” He said cheerfully and walked towards her. “How good to see you again! And hard at work.” He smiled and hopped up the nearby ledge. Belle could see him moving about as she pulled her arm back through the door. He hopped around the wall and grabbed the lever, using his weight to pull it down. 

Belle stepped out and smiled at him. “Aren’t you worried she’ll get mad at you?” She heard Cogsworth yell back, slightly out of breath, “Yes I am, so I say we just put her back!” Lumière just laughs, “The mistress over reacts sometimes. We’ll just let her calm down, and everything will be okay.”

Belle nods. “Well, thank you very much, but I really should be going.” Lumière barely let her finished before shouting, “You can’t!” He seemed to realize he spoke without meaning to and cleared his throat. Speaking in a much more friendly way, he went on, “There’s a blizzard rolling in, Mademoiselle. We can’t just let you freeze to death. It will pass in a few days, so why don’t you just stay here and relax?”

Cogsworth almost glared at Lumière, the magnifying glass monocle he wears flipping to another magnification as if he were annoyed. “Fine, but we can’t have the mistress finding out or she’ll have our heads.” He said grouchily. Lumière nodded, “We’re just going to the suit in the east wing.” Cogsworth sputtered indignantly. “A suite?!”

Lumière cheerfully waved Belle forward. “Come along then, we’ll show you the way!” Belle glanced back at her cell, decided she would much rather have a real bedroom than a straw mat, followed him quietly. 

True to his word, Lumière and Cogsworth led Belle through the winding maze of towers and halls. Cogsworth, seemingly too prideful to admit he loved new company, talked about the different aspects of the castle. How famous and old the original paintings were, where the old rugs were from, even how a suit of armor was worn by Sir So-and-so. He really was a very good tour guide, Belle decided, enjoying it even more with Lumière’s quips quick of humor. 

Finally, they reached a beautifully old blue door. Lumière jumped up and pulled down the handle. Letting go, he pushed open the door and lead her in. Belle gasped a bit, looking around the room. The walls were decorated with beautiful gold designs and blue walls. It was a bit sparse, holding only a wardrobe, a table, a bench and a large covered bed. 

Belle looked around in wonder when a white dart passed by her. It turned out to be a ornate glass swan duster. “Don’t worry, Mademoiselle, I’ll have your room spotless in no time!” She said, immediately going to work on dusting and sending up large dust clouds in her path. 

Lumière climbed onto the bed as the duster landed next to him. He pulled her close and said something obviously intimate. Cogsworth cleared his throat while Belle immediately turned away to give them some privacy. The duster then flew in front of Belle, causing her to let out a soft yelp. “I’m sorry to have scared you. I am Plumette. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out a delicate wing to Belle, who took it and shook the soft feathers gently. 

She then asked, “Is everything here alive?” Plumette smiled and shook her head as she flew off back to work. “Not everything.” Lumière walked up to Belle, saying, “There would be too much clutter here then. No, only a few, such as your wardrobe here.” Belle looked at the wardrobe, finally hearing the soft snoring that was coming from it. It was a beautiful blue wardrobe with golden ornate designs on it. There were six drawers in total, and it stood on four blue and gold clawed feet. 

Lumière, landing on the ground with a soft metallic clang, gently called out, “Madame de Garderobe? It’s time to wake up.” The wardrobe gave a sharp jolt, before the doors in front opened widely. The curtains inside of it vaguely looked like a mouth, opening widely for a yawn, while the golden rope decorations at the top looked like eyes. She blinked tiredly as the two ornate handles on the side moved, opened the top drawer and pulled out a fan, waving it in her face. 

“Oh! Lumière! How long have I been asleep?” She asked, her voice full and open. He smiled and climbed up onto a table next to her. “Not too long, madame. Only a day.” She tittered, waving the fan some more. “You know a lady needs her beauty rest.” As if to punctuate that, she let out a large yawn, then seemed to shake herself. 

Lumière raised his candled hands to her. “Please don’t fall asleep yet! We have someone for you to dress, my dear!” It was then that Madame de Garderobe looked at Belle, the ropes widening in a look of surprise. “A beautiful lady!” She cried, reaching forward and grabbing Belle’s cheeks and rubbing them a bit too hard. 

“What a beauty she is, too! It’s been too long since I have had the honor to dress a lady as fine as you!” She said, letting go and going furiously through her drawers. “I know I have something nice for you to wear…” Belle waved her hands quickly. “I don’t need a new dress, promise! This is fine.” But her words went unheard. 

Lumière hopped down and quietly pulled Cogsworth out of the room. “Well… We’ll let you get ready!” He said hurriedly, then pulled the door shut behind him. Belle sighed and sat on the bed, deciding to watch Plumette gently float around the room while Madame de Garderobe hemmed and hawed about different outfits for Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I publish this chapter, I am eating a bowl of rice and drinking coffee for breakfast. Gotta love college life. Anyway, I know that my beast is more focused on people laughing at her than, you know, killing her, but I thought that would work with her vain personality. Also, I'm keeping this strictly to Belle's perspective, so any of the servants talking to the beast without belle there won't be shown here. Anyway, enjoy!


	6. Chapter 5

The wind outside blew so violently, the windows shook and rattled like they were about to break. Belle, if she was actually trying to sleep, wouldn’t have been able to because of this. Instead, Belle was pacing her room, and had been for a few hours. 

Madame de Garderobe, after picking out a beautifully soft green silk dress because she declared, ‘It would look so ravishing on you by bringing out your eyes!’, promptly fell back asleep. Belle, at first, kept count of how many times she had snored, but had soon become too anxious to continue. 

The creature, whatever her name was, was most certainly not going to be happy when she found out that Belle was not in the cell she was put in. Of course, Belle knew it wasn’t entirely her fault, but the creature didn’t seem entirely rational. Belle paused her step, realizing something, then continued on at a quicker pace. The creature reminded her of one she had read about in a book; something called a ‘Medusa’. A gorgon that was cursed because she was beautiful. 

Belle couldn’t imagine anyone seeing the creature as beautiful. Perhaps thats why this ‘Medusa’ was cursed to look like this; because she valued beauty? That didn’t explain why she seemed to be trying to blind herself to everything with that dirty ribbon in front of her eyes. Maybe Medusa had some other reason. 

The windows rattled hard, shocking Belle out of her train of thoughts. Then, she realized that the rattling was coming from outside. A soft knock sounded from the door, then it opened. A sterling silver cart rolled in by itself, carrying a silver kettle on it and an ornate white cup with beautiful designs on it. The kettle also had gold designs, but they were faded, giving it an older and worn look. 

“Good evening.” The kettle said, the designs on- Belle was surprised to hear a male’s voice come from it- his face widening into a large smile. His voice was definitely older, almost like a older father or grandfather’s. As Belle looked closer, she could almost see the gold designs forming a mustache over what she thought was his mouth. “Good evening…” She said hesitantly. 

The kettle, seemingly unperturbed by her nervousness, moved closer to her, the cart turning around to stop right in front of her. “Bein’ that it’s a cold night, I thought you might like a cup of hot tea.” He said, then laughed. “I prob’ly should introduce myself first. You can call me Mr. Potts, and this here is my son, Chip.” 

The cup, spinning a bit recklessly on its dish towards the edge of the cart, smiled brightly up at Belle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He chirped. “Be careful now, Chip.” Mr. Potts warned with a laugh, as he tipped a bit to fill Chip with fragrant black tea. “I also brought up some sugar and milk, dear, in case you wanted some. I never want to decide how people like their tea.” He winked a bit at Belle. “Tea can be just as diverse as people.” 

Belle smiled, deciding that she liked them. Gently, she picked up Chip, noticing the small chip he had along his rim. “Now how did you get that?” She asked. Chip giggled a bit. “When I was a boy, I was running in the halls when I tripped and chipped a tooth against the floor.” Mr. Potts nodded, continuing with, “The nickname was started by Lumière, the little rascle, and it stuck.” 

Belle smiled and took a tentative sip, pulling back when she heard Chip say, “Hey, you want to see me do a trick?” Belle nodded a bit, and he closed his eyes, the designs changing to look like puffed out cheeks. A large bubble quickly blew up in the tea before popping. Mr. Potts laughed before turning a small smile to Belle. “I heard you had an eventful day. I just wanted to come here and say that you were Very brave.

Not many people would be able to do what you did, my dear. Not just stay after what you saw, but to actually talk back to her, too!” He chuckled a bit. “No one else could believe that you did that, and they all agree you are one of the bravest people here.” Belle smiled thoughtfully and drank her tea. “The creature looked pretty brave... or just too angry.”

Mr. Potts shook his head a bit. “She might be the most scared of us all. The mistress doesn’t mean to be like she is; in fact, if you knew her, she could be quite sweet. She just never realy… knew how to be around people.” Belle set Chip down gently. “She just seems… cold and cruel. I’m not sure I want to know her.” 

“I don’t blame you. She puts up a wall, and can be very intimidating.” He slid towards the edge of the cart, giving Belle a conspiring look. “In fact, I think you two could become good friends, if you wanted to give it a try.” He slid back. “We’ll let you sleep, darling. You must be tired.” Belle nodded, gripping the sides of her dress tightly. As the cart rattled to the door, Chip slid to the end of the cart. He called out a chipper, “Goodbye!” as the door shut behind them. 

Belle, even though she knew they probably couldn’t see nor hear her, let go of her dress and waved a bit at the closed door. “Goodbye..” She said softly. She was glad to have met them, but for some reason it made her feel so… lonely. They might be the few people- if you could call them ‘people’- here that seemed to genuinely care about her. Oh, sure, Lumière seemed to like Belle just fine, and Cogsworth, beneath his gruff and grumpiness seemed to at least tolerate her, but they also seemed to be using her. 

Realizing she was too tired to pace anymore, Belle walked to the bed and sat down. She fell back, staring at the glittering golden designs. The shadows cast by the candle light flickered and danced in an almost hypnotic fashion. It could almost make someone fall...asleep… 

\----

Belle jerked awake when her door opened with a creak. She heard soft metallic footsteps dash over to her, then climb up on the bed. “Good morning, mademoiselle!” Lumière said happily. “It’s time to wake up!” He said, hopping back down. This man does more jumping than anyone I know, Belle thought dryly, letting out a large yawn.

She sat up, stretching her tired muscles. “What time is it?” She asked, noticing how bright her room was. “It is about ten.” Lumière said distractedly, trying in vain to wake Madame de Garderobe. Belle was shocked; she never slept so late. Lumière shook his head and turned back to Belle. “It appears I can’t wake her right now. She sleeps so much recently.” He says apologetically. “I hope you don’t mind wearing your dress again.” 

Belle smiled. “I like this dress, Lumière. It’s nicer than anything I’ve ever known, so… thank you.” She could swear he almost blushed as he spun quickly. “Then follow me! I’ll show you to your breakfast.” He said, walking towards the door. 

As they walked out, an anxious looking Cogsworth joined them. “I simply cannot condone you giving her a place at the mistress’s table.” He whispered a bit too loudly. “What if she saw! Then she would have both of our heads.” Lumière shrugged. “You worry too much, old friend. The mistress rarely eats at this time anyway, so she won’t even see the girl.” 

Cogsworth grumbled, but was seemingly convinced. “If she does find out,” he said ominously, “It’s your head.” Lumière laughed, lightly hitting the back of Cogswoth’s back. “Like I said, you worry too much!” He walked down the grand staircase, taking a sharp turn and opening up the mahogany doors to the large dinning room. 

Belle followed Lumière and Cogsworth to the chair closest to the door. It seemed to scoot out by itself, causing her to jump. “Is the chair alive too?” She asked quickly, causing Lumière to laugh. “Of course not,” Cogsworth said in disdain, “It was just something that the-” Lumière suddenly slapped a candle over his face. “It’s just something that happens!” He says quickly, shooting a sharp glare at Cogsworth. “Isn’t that right?” Cogsworth ‘harumph’s and walks off towards the kitchen, followed closely by Lumière. 

Belle sat down without grace, jumping a bit when the chair moved in on it’s own again. She looked around the room, admiring the golden tapestries and beautiful chandeliers coming from the ceiling. The table and chairs were also heavily decorated with gold. It seemed that the Medusa loved gold, and was rich enough to afford it. 

The doors opened from the kitchen, revealing Mr. Potts coming in with a few plates stacked on his cart. “Good morning, my dear!” He said cheerfully. “I hope you slept well.” He nudged the plates and Belle watched in amazement as they flew up and landed in front of her with a soft clink. In front of her were two small plates; one had a golden and buttery croissant, steam still wafting off from it from how fresh it was. The smell alone caused Bell’s mouth to water. The other plate had an array of fruits, such as apples and orange slices. Chip slid onto the table, obviously trying not to spill a single drop of the milk coffee he was holding. Mr. Potts chuckled a bit, and went back to the kitchen, leaving Belle alone with Chip. 

“Good morning, Belle.” Chip said, spinning a bit so he was facing her. He smiled brightly up at her, causing Belle to smile in return. “Good morning, Chip.” She said. She picked up the croissant and took a bite. It was wonderful; crumbly on the outside and perfectly fluffy on the inside. She almost shivered. 

The fruit was picked at perfection, having the perfect blend of sweetness and tartness. When she had finished, she gently picked up Chip, cradling him in two hands as she sipped idly. It seemed that, even though they were isolated, this place still had access to everything they should need. It was welcome, especially since town was so far away and nearly unreachable in the blizzard. Belle sighed softly against the rim of her coffee, feeling homesick. 

The doors behind Belle opened. She turned, wondering if another servant was coming in, only to be shocked when she saw the Medusa. She froze in her chair, hoping that she couldn’t sense her. The Medusa slithered past Belle, the paused. She turned and sniffed the air. Belle then saw her face turn from confusion to anger. “What are you doing out of your cell.” She hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't forget! Last Sunday, they had me work a double shift and I was so exhausted when I came home, I just fell asleep. I'll try not to do it again! Anyway, say hello to Mr. Potts! I always thought of Mrs. Potts in the movies as the mother figure Belle never had. Since she had a mother figure here, I changed her into Mr. Potts so Belle could have a father figure. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


	7. Chapter 6

Belle was at a loss for words, worried that whatever she said would have her end up back in her cell. Medusa slithered towards her threateningly. “Well?” She demanded. Belle bit her lip before responding with, “I got myself out of the cell. The lever was close enough for me to grab…” She didn’t want to get Lumière in trouble. “I found a bedroom then and hid in there. I then convinced the servants to let me have breakfast.” Belle hoped she was a good enough liar.

Apparently she wasn’t, since Medusa’s face molded into a sneer. “You shouldn’t lie to someone who can feel heartbeats.” Lumière chose that moment to run out of the kitchen. My knight in golden armor, Belle thought in relief. “M-My lady!” He said in a shaky greeting, “Why don’t you sit down and enjoy the breakfast that Cook made. It’s really delicious.”

Medusa turned towards him. “Lumière, why is this criminal out of her cell?” She hissed. Lumière tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “I thought you could use the company!” He replied. “She’s actually very good conversation!” Medusa growled a bit, turning her head between Lumière and Belle incredulously. She then shook her head, almost in exasperation, and slithered to the opposite end of the table. She sat on the chair, the rest of her tail winding around the chair. From the way it creaked, Belle thought she might be trying to crush it.

Lumière nodded and tried to push the chair in for his mistress, but soon realized that he couldn’t. He let out a humorless laugh and walked to the kitchen. Belle cleared her throat awkwardly when Medusa looked at her. Although, ‘look’ is probably incorrect, Bell thought, looking down at Chip, who gave her a reassuring smile. 

Medusa huffed in annoyance, prompting Belle to look back up at her. “Your name,” Medusa started almost hesitant, “you said it was Belle, correct?” Belle had to admit, even though she looked horrifying, her voice was nice. Soft and warm like a summer’s day. “Yes, I did.” 

Belle sipped quietly, feeling awkward. Medusa decided to keep trying, “That means ‘Beauty’, does it not? Who picked that name for someone who sounds so plain?” Belle felt herself prickling in outrage. How dare a monster call a normal girl plain? 

“I was told I was a beauty in town.” Belle said, a tone of gloating in her voice. “I had the most handsome man ask me to marry him, actually.” A man I barely like. Why am I saying this? Belle thought to herself, feeling her feathers settle uncomfortably. Belle sighed, deciding that this was worse than their first meeting.

Medusa was surprisingly silent. She looked almost sad, but it was hard to tell with her eyes covered. “I see.” She simply said. Belle was about to apologize when Mr. Potts came back out, his tray littered with plates similarly filled with what Belle ate. He moved the plates onto the table, talking quietly to Medusa. Belle couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he sounded almost… concerned. Medusa nodded, waving her hand to shoo him away. 

Belle finished her coffee and stood just as Mr. Potts moved to her. Chip slid onto the cart, moving behind Mr. Potts. He smiled a bit at Chip, then turned to Belle. “She’s not used to other people. Talk to her gently, please. She’ll appreciate that.” He nodded a bit and goes back to the kitchen. 

Belle was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what he said. The only sound was the quiet munching coming from Medusa. Finally, she said softly, “I’m sorry… for what I said. It was… unfair of me.” Medusa looked up at her, then smiled in a cruel way. “You really think I cared about what you said? You’re nothing but a bug, and one I plan on squishing when the time is right.” 

Belle made a strangled sound and stood quickly. Medusa looked at her, the smile turning into a smug smirk. She looked proud that what she said hit their mark. She’s no better than the townspeople, Belle decides. “W-Well…” She sputters, trying to think of a response. Her brain finally catches up to her movements. Technically, she is still a prisoner, and talking back to her captor did not sound like the wisest decision. 

Belle, instead clears her throat, delicately sitting back down. She tries to calm her racing thoughts. “I’m sorry you feel like that.” Belle says finally. Her voice is softer, but not without steel. Medusa almost looked taken aback and looks down at her food. She stabs a claw into a fruit and eats it, looking no different than a sullen child who’s inside joke fell flat. 

Medusa opens her mouth, then closes it. She sighs and opens her mouth again, “Just leave me alone. Freeze to death for all I care.” She sounded defeated. Alone and tired. Belle sympathised, even though the words were harsh. This… Medusa was different. Different than any of the others in the town. She wasn’t afraid to show weakness, even if she did try to hide it. 

Belle stood and curtsied politely, even though she knew Medusa couldn’t see her. She slipped out the door and decided to explore her new home. Medusa didn’t seem to be pouncing on her to throw her back in the cell, which Belle took as a promising sign. 

She walked down the hallways, vaguely remembering Cogsworth’s words from the night before. The tour wasn’t as all encompassing as she would have hoped, only covering the halls that lead to her room, but it did help her navigate a bit. Sir So-and-so’s armor was recognizable enough as she walked confidently forward.

Her walk became less confident as she realized she had no idea where she was at. The hallways were a maze of sparkling gold and silver, with expensive paintings and heirlooms. She knew she was lost when she saw another suit of armor that looks suspiciously like Sir So-and-so’s. Belle felt her shoulders slump, but her mind began furiously working on an idea. 

It was almost an electric shock when an idea struck her like a hammer. She drifted towards the left side of the wall, laid her hand on it, and started walking again. It was an idea she heard some kids come up with when the town had a fall festival. There were so many celebrations, including a maze, to celebrate the end of harvest. Some children were discussing that, by following the left side of a wall, you would get out eventually. Without many options, Belle decided to try this trick herself. 

After what felt like an hour, she found herself in the entryway where she first came in. The room was brighter than last night, though, not by much. The wind was howling and the door was rattling hard. It sounded like someone really wanted in. Belle felt some relief that she wasn’t still out there, but she hoped Philippe was okay out there in the cold. 

Belle walks up the stairs but pauses at the landing, setting her hand on the banister. The stairs split here, the east wing to the left and, what Belle assumed to be the west wing, to the right. She hadn’t seen that part yet… Her foot was on the first step when she heard Cogsworth bellow, “Lumière! I found her!” He sounded out of breath, even as he struggled to climb the stairs to her. 

Belle turned around quickly, oddly feeling like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Cogsworth reaches the landing and bends over, panting heavily. “Where in the world have you been?” He asks, almost accusing, though the the tone was ruined by the worried look he tried to hide. “I wanted to see the rest of the castle.” Belle says, already hearing the metal footsteps clinking towards them. 

Lumière comes sliding, literally, into view at the end of the stairs. “Mademoiselle!” He says, relief filling his voice. “You gave us quite the scare. We were about to send a search party after you.” He laughs, but it’s obviously strained. Belle stifles a smile. They were worried about me. “I’m fine. I just got a bit lost.” She says as Lumière reaches them on the landing. His eyes seem to flash, though that could just be the candle light reflecting in them. 

“You weren’t about to go up into the west wing, were you?” He asks carefully. Belle nods, replying, “Yes. It is the only part of the castle I haven’t seen.” Lumière shares a worried look with Cogsworth before giving Belle a plastered smile. “You really wouldn’t like the west wing!” He says quickly. “It’s storage.” Adds Cogsworth.  
“And cold.”   
“And drafty.”  
“Yes, very very drafty!”  
Lumière pushes at her leg. Although Belle could have easily ignored the push, she does side step to the stairs leading to the east wing. Her curiosity is piqued by their blatant lies so she promises herself to explore later. 

“Trust me, mademoiselle, you would be much happier with the rest of the castle!” Lumière says, pleased that she was being so complacent. “What would you like to see?” He asks. Belle hums softly. “Do you have any books?” Cogsworth laughs. “Any books? We have a room of books!” 

Belle feels excitement bloom in her heart. “Really?” Lumière nods happily and hops onto the first step. “But of course! We have hills of books. Mountains, even! More books than you could read in a lifetime.” He reaches down and helps Cogsworth onto the first step. 

Belle smiles brightly. She really wants to see this Library, but… After all this excitement, she could really use a nap. “Could I go back to my room first? I would love to see the library tonight.” She punctuates this sentence with a yawn. Cogsworth nods. “Pay close attention to the pathways this time.” He says in an almost chiding tone, earning a sharp elbow to the side from Lumière. 

They make their way back to Belle’s room. She takes mental notes of what to look for on her way to her room. When she gets there, she bids Cogsworth and Lumière goodbye. Her bed feels soft under her, her covers trying to swallow her. She obliges happily and soon falls into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy! I'm not dead! College is just a lot harder than I expected! In this time, though, I managed to figure out more of what I wanted to do with this story, and I also went back and fixed the old chapters. I always knew I needed glasses and rereading the old chapters just made that more apparent! Anyway, I can't promise to update on a good schedule, but I will try to make it more reasonable than nine month separation! Have a great day guys.


	8. Chapter 7

Belle wakes to voices outside her door. She sits up slowly, trying her best to figure out who it is. Three sharp knocks come from the door, then she hears Medusa’s hissing tone, “You will join me for dinner.” She sounded annoyed. Belle decided this didn’t bode well so she stayed silent. 

 

“Gently, mistress,” She heard Mr. Potts say. His tone was worried but caring. “She hasn’t been ‘ere all that long, and she probably misses her family.” A derisive, hissing laugh follows that, but no response from her. Instead, Lumière says, “And while we think you are wonderful, she might have gotten the wrong impression this morning.” There’s a short pause, then three more knocks. These are much softer than the first three. 

“I want you to join me for dinner. Please.” Medusa says, softer. Belle bites her lip. “Are you going to throw me back in that cell afterwards?” She asks. The words burst from her, but now that they were out, she dreaded the answer. Another pause. “I might. I haven’t decided if you are worth my time or not.” Belle scowls. “I’m not hungry, then.” She replies sharply. 

More chatter outside. She hears Mr. Potts, Lumière, and Cogsworth trying to reassure her, but it’s all too muffled by the door. “That was rude of me. It would…” Medusa seems to struggle a bit. “It would make me so happy… if you would join me for dinner.” 

“No!” Belle huffs and walks to the window. Medusa, after a shocked silence, shouts, “Fine! FINE! Then go ahead and starve for all I care!” Belle’s stomach drops, but she refuses to change her mind. Though muffed, she can still hear through the door, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all.” 

I’d rather starve than deal with your charming personality, Belle thinks savagely. When the anger wears off, though, she laments that she ruined her chances of eating for a while. She’s survived on worse, though. Belle paces bitterly, angry at herself for her bullheadedness, mad at the blizzard for blowing still (and rattling her windows again in a very annoying way), and even at Père Robert for sending her here. 

She sighs through her nose and sits on her bed, listening to the steady breathing of Madame de Garderobe. She had never met anyone who sleeps as much as she does. What is she going to do? She can’t just hide up here for Medusa to somehow grow a heart. 

Belle decides that she needs a plan of attack. She can’t just dance around Medusa as she had before. With her mind settled, she pulls on a dark cloak, hoping that the color would hide her should any well-meaning servant should try to stop her.   
Opening the door a crack, she peaks up and down the dark hallway. Not a sound, which was reassuring. She slowly steps out, wincing as the door creaked shut again. No one came running, like she almost feared. With her heart in here throat, she slowly made her way down, grateful the carpeted floors muffled her steps.

She finds her way to the entryway, standing at the foot of the stairs. Her blood was a dull roar in her ears as she stares up at the almost imposing darkness in the west wing. Should her heart beat this hard? She sets a hand on the railing and puts a foot on the first step, wondering if she should keep going. What would she find up there.

Swallowing hard, she slowly made her way up the stairs. The hallway they brought her to was dusty and destroyed. Suits of armor were toppled and crushed, claw marks were raked across paintings, and what were stone busts lay in shattered pebbles on the ground. Did Medusa do this? Belle follows the carnage, noticing the hallways leading off this one were untouched. 

The chaos leads to magnificent oak doors. A simple coat of arms was carved in the wood; A shield stands in the background of a swan in flight, its neck bent with what looks like an olive branch in its mouth. A pair of antlers erupt from the top of the shield, ivy falling from them around and behind the shield. Four objects seem tangled in the ivy; a cross, berries, a cornucopia, and a flower. Belle isn’t sure what the flower is, but its petals are intricately carved into the wood. Above the door is a plaque, dusty, but legible. 

Spero per il disperato

“Spero… per il disperato.” She whispers. Belle is confused as to what that means. She doesn’t speak Italian. She shakes off her confusion, focusing on the task. This is probably Medusa’s room. She puts her hand against the door and pushes. 

The door opens without a sound into the main room. This room is clean, unlike the rest of the hall, but there is still obvious destruction. The four-poster bed pushed against the wall has long claw marks down the carved posts and down the maroon curtains. A mirror in the corner of the room next to a lit fireplace is shattered, like someone punched it. The fireplace itself is also carved, the light dancing across the carvings eerily. 

Belle slowly makes her way further into the room. Above a small sitting table and two plush chairs is a torn picture of a family. A little girl with hair the color of wheat and eyes the shade of emeralds stands in the center of the painting. Belle can’t make out her expression since the claw marks bisect the girl’s face. To her left is a tall, blond man decorated in medals, a red sash across his chest. He has a small smile on his face, and even in painting form, his eyes seem to sparkle. His hand is on the girl’s shoulder. Another claw mark resides next to his head, but his form is entirely untouched. To the little girl’s right is a woman with long blond hair. Her side is entirely destroyed, so that is all that Belle can make out. 

Is that Medusa? Belle thinks to herself. She turns towards the balcony at the back of the room, but her eye is caught on something else in the corner. A statue of the man from the painting is there, his arms raised in front of him, almost protectively. His face, a mask of pure terror. Claw marks come down from his shoulders and down his chest. Belle walks to him slowly. This statue looks older than the man did in the painting. The statue has facial hair that the painting did not have; a simple mustache and goatee. Belle runs her hand across his shoulders, making sure it is only a statue. 

After making sure, she finally walks up the steps to the balcony. A single marble table stands on the balcony, which is covered by glass. Belle can see fat snowflakes falling slowly around her, and can hear no wind. Though it should have been cold here, the fire kept the entire room warm. 

Belle sets a hand on the table and looks at its contents. A single music box with silver claws sits next to a rose encased in glass. Belle picks up the box, surprised to feel that it’s wood. It’s painted white, with a gold band around it’s front. The front of the box has a silver rose delicately painted on, and both sides have emeralds pressed in. The top has a gorgon, it’s eyes closed and peaceful and its snakes flowing from its head. 

Belle grabs the head of the gorgon and pushes open the box, seeing the mechanisms inside that creates its music. In the lid is a single pane of glass. She doesn’t see a crank anywhere on the box. How are you supposed to play music? It didn’t play any when she opened the box… 

She sets it down, closing it softly, and looks at the rose. The glass had frosted designs on it, of threads crossing in patterns. Belle removes the glass to look at the rose more closely. It seemed to float, and glistened with an unnatural light. Belle was transfixed. Was it… real? She reached out her hand to touch…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now things are getting interesting! I'm a slow writer so I am actually only a chapter or two ahead of what I post, so sorry if posts are a bit staggered!


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